


Cigarettes are for keeping the darkness out

by BenWhishaw



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-03-16 08:23:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3481127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BenWhishaw/pseuds/BenWhishaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a story about love and cigarettes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Q_

Sitting on the rooftop of the newly renovated babylon-on-thames Q took a drag of a cigarette. His spidery fingers clung on to the thin stick as a new wave of cold hit him. Even though he shivered from the cold weather he loved the fall. There is something a bit melancholy about it- everything dying, only to resurrect some months later. The day had been very stressful, some amateur had attempted to hack into MI6's most secure files, then add the fact that Q had already been up for 4 days straight made the day slightly more exhausting. Letting cigarettes sooth him as he waited for what would inevitably happen: someone, most likely Bond or Moneypenny would come looking with thoughts of forcing him home to his neglected flat. Reaching for a new cigarette and absentmindedly noting that there were only two left, he heard the unmistakable click of the exit door behind him. Sighing, he took both of the cigarettes out of the pack and held it up for whomever had the task of fetching him today. Wordlessly the man(for the fingers that plucked one cigarette from his grasp were too big to represent a woman) took one of them and then joined him on the ledge of the roof. Neither man said a word or any form of greeting while the dark-haired man searched for the lighter that he had so foolishly put away , planning on leaving the last two cigarettes for another day. Finding it in one of the pockets of his large parka he lit the cigarettes and then let the quiet swallow them again. Gazing at the London horizon where the sun soon would rise he let his mind wander.

Bond

Pushing the heavy door open to the roof he found his missing boffin. His Quartermaster was sitting on the ledge of the building representing the nobel work of the Queen. immediately his mind started gather useful information of the location, how to evacuate the Quartermaster while at the same time protecting him was just one of the many scenarios his trained mind calculated. He observed as Q sighed, possibly at being found at his hiding place. He may also just be tired after working four days straight. Probably the first option, if you bear in mind his usual sleeping pattern. Receiving a cigarette for all the trouble of finding the man he took a seat next to him. Biting into the cigarette and then leaning in as the flame lit the tobacco filled stick, he sucked in the first breath and felt the nicotine fill his body. He had supposedly quit with the cigarettes and the cigars but dating a smoker made his promise to himself quickly fail. He began observing the other out of the corner of his eye, knowing that the slightest show of concern was not going to be appreciated. Something had happened, there was a darkness in the younger man's eyes that had not been there the last couple of days. Usually, his Quartermaster would be able to go a week before the exhaustion of sleep deprivation would begin to show, but already now the telling sings were beginning to show- the slight tremor in his pale hands and the dark circles underneath his eyes speaking of the fatigue he was bound to feel. Those pale hands were now running through his messy hair in a nervous habit, one of them gripping tightly at the cigarette:as if he was drowning and the stick was the rope thrown out to catch him. "Q" one word. In it all the feelings Bond had, all the questions, knowing that the boffin would understand and answer it if he wanted to.

_Q_

"Q" A sentiment, his brothers would have said, caring is not an advantage. 'Why?!' he wanted to shout it up to the golden throne his brothers sat on. 'Why? It didn't save you, Sherlock. It doesn't make your grief any easier to handle Mycroft!' He had watched the way his older brother had handled the news. Sitting at his laptop in his wealthy home, putting his head in his hands in despair and then making eye contact with the web cam on his laptop as if somehow knowing the youngest of the Holmes would be watching. Q would never forget the look in Mycroft's eyes. The villains of the great city of London call him the ice man, but if just one of them had seen him that day as his younger brother laid broken and bleeding on the concrete below St. Bart's then they would never call him the ice man again.

Sentiment. Sentiment was making Q feel the way he was feeling right now. The horrible, overwhelming, crushing despair that left a hole in his chest filled with aching numbness. The feeling was soon replaced with a deep sense of dread; dread for sleeping, dread for moving on, dread for forgetting. Knowing that Bond felt that something was off and feeling the need to reassure his lover he simply said: "I'm scared" in a defeated voice. Q felt Bond's eyes on him as the words left his tongue, the empathy in the elder's gaze. Q let himself show some vulnerability and leaned his head on Bond's shoulder, letting the cigarette stub fall down the length of the building. He felt Bond repeat his action and a second after two strong arms were surrounding him. Q pressed his head agains the exposed flesh of Bonds neck and after taking a steadying breath he continued his explanation. "I'm scared that people will die and be forgotten, that the future will bring more darkness than already is." He huffed out a sorrowful laugh, "I'm scared of being left alone in this horrible place." His normally calm and sooting voice had a manic streak in it."It feels as if i'm afraid of everything James!" Feeling the panic rise within him he leaned away from Bond and the caged in feeling. He imagined what his face would look like; the tired look in his wide eyes, the fragility of his shoulders already looking like they carried half the weight of the world on them. He sighed once again, tired after the short burst of emotions. Q dropped his eyelids, closing the world out. He knew he owed the man an explanation for this outburst and decided for the blatant truth: "My brother killed himself yesterday." Q opened his eyes, unsurprised to find them as dry as the sahara desert. Crying was never his thing. Drinking in Bonds reaction, the relaxation of his jaw and the compassionate flicker in his eyes, Q concluded the scene with a resigned expression as he said "Take me home, James"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really good at writing stuff but I've had this written down for almost a year so I thought I would post it.


	2. Chapter 2

Bond

"Take me home, James.”

He reacted relatively quickly, still feeling the side effects of the shock Q's words had left him in. Standing up, still holding an arm around Q's shoulders and using the free arm to pick up the empty pack of cigarettes, he swiftly guided Q trough MI6 and went home. Reaching out in the dark for the light switch, he let the artificial light wash over him and the Quartermaster. It hade taken them four months before they packed away each of their huge egos and made the decision to move in together. The flat was huge with a lot of open spaces and was located in the middle of London so that they both didn’t have to travel so far to work. Through a window you could see the sky turning a few shades of lighter blue in preparation for the sunrise. Bond carefully took of Q's ridiculously big parka and hung it on the appropriate hook next to the shoe stand. He could still see the lines of tension in his partners neck and spine and he hoped Q would soon fall asleep thus curing his fatigue and easing his mind of the recent, grim matters.

Guiding both of them out of their shoes he silently lit up the rest of the flat and then went into the kitchen to put the kettle on and, rummaged through some drawers and compartments, he found the tea without caffein in it. Already relaxed and having dropped his shields he didn't notice the silent padding of feet nearing until a heavy head dropped down on his shoulder. Startled he almost immediately went into full agent mode and was about to turn around and attack but stopped himself when he heard the familiar voice.

"Please don't behead me for leaning on you without proper warning.” the words were perfectly formulated in Q's posh accent and if Bond hadn't seen Q a few minutes before he would have thought him fully awake. Relaxing he slowly turned around and let the dark-haired head fall on the other shoulder. Bringing his hands up he traced the tense back and ran one hand trough the thick and tousled hair. Knowing that the man would need comfort, highly unusual for Q because of his love in solitude. Forgetting about the tea he lead Q backwards, into their bedroom, until he fell down on the bed. Q instantly curled up on the covers and with one hand he reached out to Bond, trying to drag him down as well. Making a shushing sound he avoided the out-stretched hand and said "I'll just go check on the lights and make sure the door is locked, okay?" Q made an agreeing sound in the back of his throat and James went to make sure the flat was secure. Quickly scanning the other rooms on his way back he finally had a few moments to gather his scattered thoughts.

Q would never again speak of this early morning two days after his brother killed himself. Bond knew this, Q’s show of dependence and weakness was something he would usually never show, and because of that the quiet morning was better to be forgotten. Doing a final check over and finding nothing out of place, Bond returned to the bedchamber where Q was laying, eyes still open and dry. Helping the younger man out of his clothes and quickly striping down himself, he lifted the covers (with a bit of trouble considering the the fact that Q was laying on top of it) and slid into place next to Q. He felt Q slowly let go of his thoughts and drift to sleep in his embrace, and just as his own conscience was slipping away the thought of what the future might bring struck him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know if I'll continue it, I guess we'll just have to wait and see. If you have any ideas on how this fic could continue, please leave an answer, because right now I really don't know how to continue. xx


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